Marriage Is What You Make It
by writteninhaste
Summary: High School AU. They say happiness in marriage is purely chance - that it can occur, if you're married to someone good. But what happens when your marriage is the result of a school project and you didn't get a say in choosing your spouse? A/M. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 1_

Scrunching his eyes against the invasive sunlight, Merlin swatted a hand against his alarm clock in an attempt to put an end to its incessant ringing. He missed. His hand connected rather painfully with the edge of the bedside cabinet. With a yelp, Merlin Emrys, aged 18 and in his final year at Camelot Academy, snatched his hand back, rolled away from the offending piece of furniture, and promptly fell out of bed. With a groan, the young man levered himself up from off the floor, and glared blearily around the room in an attempt to ascertain the location of his towel. After a few minutes of fruitless staring, Merlin began to stumble around his room in an effort to find the illusive item. He found it beneath a pile of laundry he had meant to do the night before and forgotten to complete. With a sinking feeling, Merlin realised that every one of his shirts was in that pile. The school dress code was strict, and Merlin knew he would never get away with wearing any of the shirts he wore at the weekend to class. Gingerly selecting the most presentable top from the pile, Merlin knew that today was _not_ going to be a good day.

* * *

Scrambling through the door and into his seat, Merlin ignored the scathing looks sent at him by the majority of his class mates. Sinking into the space beside a young woman named Guinevere Cameliard, the only other scholarship student in their year, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief; being in Gwen's presence always made him feel calmer. The young woman exuded a sense of peace and tranquillity, that one was hard pressed to find within the white walls of Camelot. He returned her smile with one of his own, before flipping open his notepad. He opened his mouth to begin a conversation with Gwen, when Mr Hurt – the social studies teacher and careers advisement officer – ambled through the door. Hurt was a strange man, and Merlin was not sure whether he was intimidated or amused by his eccentricities.

A flash of gold caught his eye, forcing Merlin to turn his head and immediately wished he had not bothered. The gold had been nothing more that the light reflecting off of blonde hair: Arthur Pendragon's hair to be exact. Huffing a sigh, Merlin aimed a glare at the back of Pendragon's head.

The boy – man as he would prefer to be called – was insufferable. Merlin was sure that if anyone was ever trapped in a small space with the blonde they would be suffocated by the size of his ego. Just because he was intelligent, and witty, and good at sports, with the body of a _god_ - Merlin hastily slammed the lid on his traitorous thoughts and returned his attention to Hurt who was now speaking.

"The aim of this assignment is to give you a taste of what life will be like one you have left the sheltered environment of school, and college after. As responsible and independent as many of you no doubt consider yourselves to be, I doubt any of you have ever had to look after yourselves in the way this project will require of you. No meals will be cooked for you, you will have to do your own laundry, you will be forced to budget for rents and for meals, and you will be expected to act as if your job placement is permanent, not temporary." Hurt paused for breath, and Merlin blinked. He had the distinct feeling that he had missed something vital in those few moments he had spent glaring at Arthur rather than listening. Hurt handed a wad of envelopes to Arthur, who just happened to be sitting in front of him, and gestured for them to be handed out. Merlin watched, bemused, as the young man rifled through the pile, selected one, then passed the rest to the person beside him, who repeated the process. Turning to Gwen he cast her a gaze of confusion, tinged with desperation, prompting the young woman to take pity of him.

"It's one of those 'real-life perspective' projects everyone says Hurt is so fond of. We're partnered up and then we have to pretend as though we're living in the 'outside world'. At the end of the month we have to submit a report, detailing our budgets, living expenses etc." Upon seeing Merlin's still rather perplexed expression she sighed. "We are each being assigned a 'spouse' and a 'job'. Your partner for the project is your 'spouse' – names were assigned at random. Our 'jobs' are actually work placements, that we will be undertaking part-time in concert with our studies – we basically spend three days per week for the remainder of the month at our 'jobs'. We are expected to spend time with our 'spouse' as we would in a real marriage. We have to decide on expenditure budgets, pursue recreational activities as a couple, and then right a report about being 'married' and 'having a job'." Merlin smiled his thanks, whilst mentally cursing Mr Hurt. Why couldn't they just do what every other school did and look after a robotic child for a week?

A much diminished pile of white envelopes was shoved beneath his nose, and he took them, ignoring the derisive sneer of the oaf beside him – one of Arthur's cronies. He realised that the envelopes had names on them. He quickly flicked to the one bearing his own, before passing the rest on to Gwen. Ripping the envelope open, Merlin tipped the contents out onto his desk: a blue toothpick and a folded piece of paper. Merlin was entirely nonplussed.

He was prevented from investigating further, when Hurt once again began speaking. "Good, I see you've each got your envelopes. Inside each one you should find a piece of paper outlining your career path, and a coloured toothpick indicating the gender of your spouse." Merlin's eyes fell on the blue piece of wood lying across his desk and felt his eyebrows scramble towards his hairline.

Seeing, several rather shocked faces around the room, Hurt chuckled. "In light of the changing dynamics of modern society, the 'marriages' will not only be what some may term "traditional unions" – a number of civil-partnerships have been included in the mix." Consulting a list that lay on the table behind him, Hurt began to read. "The pairings are as follows –" Merlin tuned Hurt's voice out. He frowned down at his toothpick, and wondered just how much Hurt knew about his students. Had the type of partnership been based upon their own orientations? But no, a glance to the side told him that Arthur's oaf was also holding a blue toothpick and it was a widely known fact that the young man made it his duty to work his way through each girl in the lower years. It sounded crass even in his own thoughts, but Merlin really did not care enough to try and soften the truth.

His head snapped up when he heard Hurt intone, "Emrys, Merlin." He waited with baited breath to hear who his partner was to be. The blue toothpick ruled out Gwen but perhaps he would get someone who wasn't a complete tosser. "Pendragon, Arthur."

Merlin felt the blood drain from his face, as a voice at the front of the classroom swore loudly. He could not be partnered with Arthur. He could not. There was no way he could spend the next month effectively married to the most infuriating – and most handsome, a voice in his mind whispered – boy in the _entire_ school. They would have to spend time together; have conversations. There was no way Merlin could do this without revealing himself. It would be impossible, he knew, for him to spend that many hours in Arthur Pendragon's company without letting all and sundry know that he had rather a large crush on the boy.

Merlin had been nicely horrified the first time he had realised that the cramping in his gut every time he laid eyes on the 'prince' of Camelot Academy, was not mild indigestion but actually something far more troublesome. Merlin was appalled that his heart had ignored his brain's wishes and fallen for Arthur, because the other boy was the world's _biggest_ git. Unfortunately, he also had a tendency to look like one of the arc-angels, and Merlin was hard pressed to look away every time he saw Arthur outlined in sunlight, hair melting to liquid gold, and eyes gleaming like precious gems. The description was terribly trite and overly romantic, and Merlin berated himself every time it entered his mind, but that did not stop him from dreaming of his golden prince night after night.

Hurt continued reading off names, but Merlin was in so engrossed with his own thoughts and panic that he barely even registered mild surprise when Gwen was partnered with Morgana LeFay.

As he stared numbly down at the tiny piece of painted wood, Merlin managed to think, '_Yes, this is going to be a very bad day_.'

* * *

Merlin watched despondently as Arthur marched aggressively towards Hurt at the end of the class. The man had, out of necessity, informed the class that all those who held a genuine moral or ethical objection could speak to him about re-arranging their assignment. Merlin knew that several of the more conservative students had been deeply uncomfortable when informed that they would be sharing a room with their 'spouse'. Though raised in a liberal household, Merlin knew that he would hate to have to sacrifice any of his principles for the sake of a high school assignment.

Personally, he had been rather pleased at the idea. For the duration of the project, the class had been informed they would be living in the self contained annexes dotted around the grounds. The annexes had originally been designed to house visiting parents and families and were in essence lavish hotel suites. Most guests rarely stayed long enough to require their use nowadays, but each unit was still meticulously maintained.

Winding his way between students as he moved down the hall, Merlin wondered what would happen if Arthur did manage to convince Hurt to allow a switch in partners. Arthur was Uther Pendragon's son after all – surely Hurt did not want to piss off the son of the most powerful man in the country.

Sliding onto a lab stool, Merlin put thoughts of Arthur Pendragon from his mind. Physiology was not an easy subject and despite the fact that Gaius was Merlin's guardian, as well as his teacher, the man allowed him not an inch of slack.

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin could see the rest of his class taking their seats. A flash of raven hair and pale skin, signalled Morgana's arrival but it was the accompanying flash of dark hair and coffee-coloured skin that drew Merlin's attention. Morgana and Gwen were laughing as though they had been friends for a lifetime and Merlin felt vaguely betrayed, before guilt washed through him in a hot wave. Watching the scene unfold, he wondered if he had isolated Gwen from potential friends. They had arrived at the school at the same time – the only two scholarship students of the year – and Merlin had immediately alienated himself from the privileged student body. His clash with Arthur had become school legend (until something more sensational had replaced it) and had the effect of making it, so that no one wanted to speak to him. A choice between his friendship and the censure of Arthur Pendragon was no choice at all. As a result, he had worked hard at cementing his friendship with Gwen, but he wondered now that, if by securing her friendship, he hadn't ensured that no one else would talk to her.

With an effort of will, Merlin forced all such melancholy thoughts from his mind and focused on the anatomy diagram Gaius was currently drawing on the board.

* * *

Arthur Pendragon was _furious_. Hurt had flat out refused to allow him to switch partners, easily seeing through his new found interest in religion. Instead he had spouted some drivel Arthur was convinced he had once read in a fortune cookie, and sent him on to his next class. In retaliation, Arthur applied himself to brutally dismantling his opponent on the fencing court. Usually he restrained himself, wanting at least the illusion of a challenge, but today he took vicious pleasure in hearing the fencing master call the victory each time in his favour. He remembered meeting Emrys the first day of term. How the boy had labelled him a 'prat' and an 'arse', entirely unimpressed by Arthur's name, looks, or wealth. The encounter had eaten away at Arthur until he had built a wall around it in his mind, and worked on actively ignoring the other boy whenever he was nearby. There was no way he was going to allow this project to resurrect those feelings of inadequacy, of a thirst to prove that he was worthy of people's adoration and his father's occasional praise – the feeling of having been in the wrong.

He was sweating heavily by the time they were dismissed, and he had resolved to find Merlin-sodding-Emrys and tell him exactly how this project was going to work.

* * *

"No."

"_What?_"

"I said 'no'."

Arthur Pendragon stared at the young man lounging on the grass beneath the shade of the oak tree. No one – except Hurt – ever denied him anything, and here was this scrawny, emo-looking nobody, refusing to do what he said.

"Why not?" He demanded angrily, his temper flaring when Emrys had the nerve to simply raise a single eyebrow at him.

"Because this is a team project. I'm not doing all of the work myself. And seeing as how we each have to write our own reports, I'll be sure to highlight any failings on your part, so don't think you can just get away with it." Arthur gaped at the utter nerve of the boy who, to add insult to injury, simply opened the book he had closed upon Arthur's approach, and recommenced reading. It was as though Arthur was not there.

Growling in exasperation, Arthur turned to go, when his gaze registered the sheer size of the volume Merlin was reading.

"What is that?" He asked, the words leaving his mouth before he had a chance to process the fact that they were being said.

Merlin looked up startled, sky-blue eyes boring into his own. Seeing that Arthur's gaze was fixed firmly on the tome in his lap, Merlin hefted the book up, offering Arthur a view of the cover.

"Atlas Shrugged."

"I can read Emrys." Arthur informed the other boy snidely, eyes still taking in the sheer volume of the book. He had read it himself once, over a summer when he was still too young to take up summer internships to please his father. On reflection, this probably meant that he was too young to fully appreciate the text. He contemplated for a moment re-reading it, but immediately wondered when he would have time. For that matter how did Merlin? He hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to actually try to begin a conversation, before turning and walking away. He managed two paces before he spun around and returned, looking down at the dark haired youth for the space of a heartbeat before backing up again. Gifting Merlin with a rather stiff nod, the blonde young man once again turned and marched away.

Merlin was left sitting with the distinct impression that Arthur Pendragon might just be a little unhinged.

* * *

As Merlin looked around the room that he would share with Arthur for the remained of the project, Merlin sighed. The room, indeed the entire suite Hurt had assigned to them, was far more lavish that his room back in the main school. Those rooms were plain, practical – nice, but practical. He could just about forget where he was in that room. But here, now, he stood no hope. The furniture was dark and polished to an almost liquid shine. The carpet was plush and deep, and the beds were more comfortable than was decent. This was a room designed to impress – one which breathed wealth – and Merlin had never felt so alone.

He longed for his own home: that small house on the edge of the village, with Will living next door. A home where no one had cared that his mother worked behind the till at the local corner store and that he did not have a designer item to his name. He missed feeling like he belonged and being reminded that there was a world outside the realms of diplomats and socialites and those with more money than sense.

It was times like this that Merlin wished he had never agreed to attend Camelot Academy. But his mother, on Gaius' recommendation, had saved for weeks so he could take the entrance exam, and when he had been accepted on full scholarship, he had not had the heart to tell her he did not want to go. He could not wait until University where he would once again be amongst normal people.

Flopping down onto the bed, Merlin decided to procrastinate unpacking and instead pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialling a number he knew by heart, Merlin pressed call and waited for the person on the other end to the line to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Will." Merlin breathed his friend's name with a sigh of relief, and not a little nostalgia. He heard Will chuckle on the other end of the line. They quickly fell into easy conversation, but there was a simmer of _something_ beneath the words – a memory of drunken fumblings in dark corners, and very sober consummations. Just listening to Will talk let Merlin revel in the memory of home even as he bitched vehemently about Arthur.

Given the fact that Arthur studiously ignored Merlin most of the time, it was surprising just how much Merlin could find to complain about. Neither Will nor Merlin mentioned what it meant that the latter was watching the younger Pendragon so intently.

Merlin was still smiling when he hung up, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. The project, despite the fact that he was 'married' to Arthur, was now looking manageable though he would not go so far as to say it might be fun.

Merlin managed to cling to this feeling before all of a minute before a voice in the doorway snatched it away.

"Who was that on the phone?" Jerking upright, Merlin felt the bottom drop out of his stomach at the sight of Arthur Pendragon lounging causally in the open doorway, designer luggage carrier lying at his feet.

"My friend Will," Merlin rasped, throat dry, "from back home." Arthur's face was perfectly neutral, and Merlin had no way of knowing just how much the other boy had heard. He prayed it was only the end of the phone call – he really did not want to give Arthur any more of a reason to make this project as difficult as possible. They remained staring at each other for what, to Merlin, seemed like hours before Arthur fixed his gaze upon a spot somewhere above Merlin's head.

"I had no idea you thought so little of me." The blonde intoned dryly, still not looking at the darker-haired boy. In truth, Arthur had had no idea that Merlin even thought of him at all. He was grateful that years of hiding his emotions from his father allowed him to speak with perfect composure. His throat felt tight and his stomach heavy. Did more people than Merlin view him with such disdain? Were they all too fearful of his father and his name to say anything?

"Yes, well - you're a prat." Merlin offered quietly, but the hesitation in his gaze and the way he refused to meet Arthur's eye took the sting from the words – if only a little. Kicking his luggage in the general direction of his bed, Arthur turned and left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 2_

When Merlin finally dragged himself from the bedroom he found Arthur sitting at what amounted to a dining table. He had only left the safety it had offered because he couldn't bare the thought of hiding from a prat like Arthur. Not that he had been hiding; not really, it was just that he did not know what to say. He felt as though he should apologise for what he had said, but all he could bring himself to do was to apologise for being overheard, and he had a sneaking suspicion that might just make things work.

Padding over to the table, he took the seat opposite Arthur's and waited for the other boy to say something.

"I suppose we should talk over this project then?" Arthur said at last, and the arrogance with which he usually addressed the entire world seemed somewhat diminished, but the next moment his eyes met Merlin's and a sneer curled his lips, and Merlin was sure he must have imagined it.

"Alright then," He agreed and fished the crumpled piece of paper denoting his work placement from out of his pocket. Beneath the information telling him where to go, who to speak to, and what to do, were a series of bullet points outlining his 'job' for the placement. "I'm working at the hospital." He offered after a moment's quiet and pushed the piece of paper towards Arthur so he could see.

Grudgingly, Arthur returned the favour and Merlin had the opportunity to see what Arthur planned to do with the rest of his life. The work placements were geared towards their own career goals, which had surprised Merlin until he remembered Hurt was also their careers advisor and knew these sorts of things. He was surprised to see that Arthur's placement was with a local, if prestigious, law firm – one renowned for doing a lot of pro-bono human rights work.

He was unsurprised to see that Arthur's 'salary' was roughly four times more than his. It took little imagination to guess who would be the breadwinner in this family.

"We can work out a budget for food tomorrow, and at some point we'll have to pick up a property magazine."

Merlin blinked at him. "Property magazine? Whatever for?"

Arthur looked at him as though he were the village idiot. "Weren't you listening to Hurt this morning?" He demanded. "We have to go house hunting together. Part of this 'marriage'." Merlin wondered if he should be offended at the way Arthur spat the final word, but decided it was not worth the effort.

"Won't the local real-estate agencies get pretty annoyed if they have a bunch of kids asking to look round houses?" He asked instead.

Arthur snorted. "That's what I said. Hurt's crazy." He stood up and snatched his own paper from off the table. "I'll be at the library if you need me." He glared at Merlin. "Don't need me."

Watching the other boy disappear from the room, Merlin wondered if Arthur knew just how much time he spent walking away from him.

* * *

When he awoke the next morning, Merlin had a moment's confusion before he remembered where he was. Enlightenment dawned, when he heard a drawling voice say, "Ah, you're awake."

Sitting up, Merlin saw a disgustingly awake and dressed Arthur Pendragon straightening his tie in the mirror. With horror, Merlin realised that Arthur must be one of those people who got up well in time for class and probably had time for a leisurely breakfast and a cup of coffee before he had to leave. Merlin was more the get up and go variety. With a moan of despair, that he did not in the slightest try to hide, the young man dropped back down into a horizontal position, before flinging and arm over his eyes to block out the light.

He managed to experience three blissful moments of peace, which was enough to for him to begin to fall asleep, before a finger prodded him sharply in the ribs.

"Get up." A rather imperious voice commanded. "We're supposed to be having breakfast together." The words took a few minutes to work their way into Merlin's sleep-addled brain, but when they did he opened his eyes to stare at Arthur and managed a very articulate, "Huh?"

"Breakfast Merlin." Arthur drawled. "It's the meal one normally consumes between waking and beginning work for the day." When Merlin simply continued to gaze blearily at him, Arthur sighed and ran a hand threw his hair. Merlin suppressed the urge to reach out and run his own hands through the golden strands. Watching Arthurs lips move, Merlin realised that Arthur was speaking,

" – supposed to be acting as though we're married. Married couples have breakfast together."

"Can't we have a dysfunctional marriage like most people?" Merlin asked desperately trying to will away the beginnings of an erection as Arthur growled low in his throat and clenched his teeth, making the muscles in his jaw jump and tighten.

"No." The blonde ground out, running another aggravated hand through his hair, and marching back over towards the mirror. "Breakfast. Ten Minutes. Be There." He did not particularly want to spend time with Emrys, but he was damned if he was going to prove true, even a single word of what the boy had told his friend last night.

* * *

Fifteen minutes saw Merlin, showered, shaved, changed, and drinking black, sweet coffee. Despite Arthur's insistence that they eat breakfast together, "Like normal people Emrys." Both had forgotten that one of the points of the project was that they had to cook their own meals and neither had bothered to do any shopping. Merlin rarely ate when Gwen or Gauis did not remind him and Arthur had apparently eaten in town last night. Together they had managed to locate coffee, sugar and a kettle, but no milk.

Merlin stifled a smile when Arthur stomach rumbled loudly.

"Sod this." Arthur said, and Merlin laughed. "We have forty-five minutes, let's go." Merlin stood up and followed, without even bothering to ask where it was they were going.

* * *

As it transpired, their destination had been a rather exclusive patisserie in town. Arthur ordered coffee and croissants at a price Merlin would have balked at had he been footing the bill. He opened his mouth to tell Arthur he wasn't hungry, as there was no way he could afford to spend this amount of money on breakfast, when the other boy shot him a look, "Married, remember?" He said dryly and handed over his card to the girl behind the counter. Merlin nodded mutely, and then felt his lips twitch when he saw the girl mouth _'taken' _at her colleague and motion at Arthur and Merlin with a mournful expression. Arthur remained oblivious.

Following Arthur to a table in the corner, Merlin took a sip of his beverage, humming in delight as the bouquet of flavours hit his tongue. Normally, he just threw milk and sugar at his coffee and hoped for the best, but this had hints of cinnamon and was made with real cream. Merlin resisted the urge to smack his lips in contentment.

Slinging his suit jacket over the back of the chair, Merlin plopped himself down in front of Arthur. The other boy ran his eyes of Merlin's clothes and raised an eyebrow but he did not say anything. Merlin felt a flash of annoyance. He knew his suit was not was not of the same quality as Arthur's, but it was the best he could afford. Suits were the uniform at the academy and Merlin's scholarship only provided a small amount for clothing.

They sat in silence, each drinking their coffee, whilst Merlin carefully shredded his pastry and did not eat any of it. Eventually, Arthur sighed and broke the silence.

"I'll probably be home around six thirty – I suspect you'll be the same. You're closer, so do you think you could pick something up for dinner on your way home? We can work out a hypothetical budget based on our 'salaries', and a real budget based on the grant we've been given, this evening."

"What grant?" Merlin asked, getting the distinct impression that he had missed more of Hurt's class than he originally thought.

"Were you even in class yesterday?" Arthur demanded, before huffing in frustration and addressing Merlin as though he were a little stupid. "Each 'marriage' has been given a grant of money to buy food and to socialise on. It's not much, but it supposed to teach us how to work as a team and figure out the difference between need and want."

Merlin thought privately, that Hurt had put far too much thought into this project and wondered if the man derived some perverse pleasure from playing with his students like puppets on strings.

"Sure," Merlin heard himself saying, "I'll pick something up from the supermarket on the way home."

"Great," Arthur said, shaking his cuff back to glance at his overly expensive watch. "Well, I've got to go. I'll see you at home tonight." He downed the rest of his coffee, set the mug on the table and hurried out the door, shrugging into his jacket as he went.

Merlin glared down into the dregs of his coffee and speculated whether Arthur realised how domestic that last exchange was.

* * *

Merlin was just beginning to prepare the salad when he heard the door to the annex open and Arthur walk in the door. He thought about calling out a greeting, but decided that he was not Suzie Homemaker and that if Arthur wanted to start the whole 'Honey, I'm home,' business that was his prerogative. He listened with half and ear and Arthur shuffled into the bedroom they shared, no doubt intent on changing into something less official.

Merlin knew the feeling. The first thing he had done upon arriving home, after dumping the groceries in the kitchen, was to thrown on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and ditch the dress shoes. Arthur padded into the kitchen and a glance down, told Merlin that he too was barefoot. It seemed he and Arthur had at least one thing in common. A glance upwards told him that Arthur had a bottle of red wine clutched in one hand.

At Merlin's incredulous gaze, Arthur shrugged. "After the day I've had –" He let the sentence trail off and Merlin chuckled. His day at the hospital had been similar. After the bright shining moment when he had been told that casual dress was perfectly acceptable for a placement as a research technician, his day had been an endless rush of preparations and paperwork. He was not allowed to participate in any of the actual research, but they had him helping the junior technicians ready the equipment and of course he was saddled with all the administrative work that no one wanted to do, but which could be done with anybody with half a brain. There was also a surprising amount of heavy lifting involved.

As the blonde reached down two glasses from the cabinet on the opposite side of the room, Merlin opened the oven door to check on the meal. Arthur watched him curiously, something in his eyes that Merlin could not place.

"What?" He asked eventually, when it became clear that the other boy was not going to say anything.

"You cooked." Arthur stated, tone flat. Merlin could not tell what he was thinking.

"So?" He asked, returning his attention to the bowl of salad by the sink.

"I was just expecting you to pick up a ready meal or something." Again there was no intonation and Merlin could not decide whether Arthur was glad that he had not or wished that he had. The silence stretched between them, before Arthur reached behind him and held out a glass to Merlin.

"Here." He said, thrusting the drink at Merlin. "You look worse than I do." The smile on his lips softened the words, and Merlin felt his lips twitching in return. He waved a hand in the general direction of the shelves of plates and cutlery, a silent request for Arthur to set the table, before turning once again to check on the lasagne.

He half expected Arthur to tell him to do it himself, but a moment later he heard the rattle of a draw opening and Arthur questing around for tablemats. (break)

"So, we have a combined income of roughly £130,000 per anum. Into this we need to factor: food costs, utilities, social expenses, taxes, and debts – namely in the form of a mortgage and university tuition fees."

Merlin's mind boggled as Arthur, with the precision of a military commander, analysed and reviewed their 'family finances', drawing up a rough guideline for them to use in their report. It had become quickly evident that Merlin had not a clue where to begin when dealing with a long term financial plan. He was quite content, therefore, to allow Arthur to take the lead, adding murmurs of consent whenever appropriate.

"So what do you think?" Arthur asked raising his head, from the papers scattered across the dining table, to address Merlin.

"Yeah, sounds great." Merlin said, hoping that his confusion did not show in his voice. Arthur squinted at him for a second and then sat back in his chair, a smirk decorating his face.

"You didn't understand a thing I just said, did you?"

Merlin shook his head ruefully, offering Arthur a grin. "Not a word."

Arthur laughed - a surprised, full blown sound and Merlin felt something inside his chest clench. Arthur never laughed like that at school – his laughs there were always more derisive, more cruel. This was an innocent sound; pure joy in every note. Merlin wondered how many people had ever heard Arthur Pendragon laugh like that.

Shaking his head, Arthur swept aside the current series of papers and pushed forward a new set. Merlin groaned.

Ignoring him, Arthur ran his gaze over page. "We basically have £350 for the month. We'll need to see what the prices at the supermarket are like, but I'd guess maybe £30-40 pounds a week on food, which leaves maybe £190 between the two of us for 'entertainment' for the remainder of the month." Arthur's voice said clearly how little he thought of the prospect.

"£95 for the next three and a bit weeks seems plenty to me." Merlin commented, aware that compared to some he did not have a very active social life. The look of Arthur's face suggested that £30 a week was hardly enough to cover a single night out let alone an entire week.

Merlin shrugged, and Arthur did not pursue the topic. Instead, he gathered the papers together, shuffled them until they were in an order that seemed to please him and then filed them away with a level of care Merlin thought just slightly excessive. Sensing that the 'family meeting' was over, Merlin excused himself to complete the reading for his next assignment. He thought it ridiculous that they were expected to complete their school work during their work placements. He at least had no paperwork to bring home with him. Arthur on the other hand was now bent over a mountain of legal reports all of which he was expected to review by morning, on top of completing his own assignments. Merlin had a fleeting sense of pity for his companion, but it wasn't enough to prompt him to stay in Arthur's company.

* * *

The next day was much the same, with the exception that Arthur was the one to pick up groceries and cook the dinner, and Merlin was the one to stumble through the door and slump tiredly into a seat at the table. Arthur once again had poured himself a glass of wine, but Merlin declined. He had no head for alcohol, having drunk only a few sips of the glass given to him last night, and he had no wish to become a babbling idiot in front of Pendragon Jr of all people.

They ate dinner in silence, with the exception of Merlin's muttered thanks at Arthur having cooked a vegetarian meal. Afterwards they went their separate ways, until Arthur entered the bedroom just after midnight. Merlin spared a thought that, if they really were married, it would be one of the quietest in all of history. (break)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 3_

Over the weeks they gradually fell into an easy rhythm. One of them would shop and cook – the next day the roles would be reversed. Housework, such as it was, was shared and occasionally Merlin completed Arthur's maths assignments for him when Arthur was up to his eyeballs in legal work.

Both boys had been pleasantly surprised to discover that they did not loathe being in each other's company. Once they had managed to ascertain that Arthur thought Merlin a bumbling idiot, and Merlin thought Arthur a pompous arse, they actually got along rather well.

Merlin was contemplating toast or fruit for breakfast when Arthur walked up behind him and dropped a property magazine over his shoulder. Merlin blinked at it and then flicked it open; several of the items inside had been ringed in red marker.

"What's this?" He asked, turning to brandish the paper at Arthur who was busy fixing himself a cup of coffee.

"The ones in red are the ones we can 'afford'." Arthur said without looking round. "We have a meeting with the realtor today to look at properties."

"Do we indeed?" Merlin muttered dryly, flicking through the pages with vague interest. There were three flats which Arthur had ringed and marked with asterisks. Merlin frowned.

"The ones with stars by them are the ones we'll be looking at today." Arthur informed him, and Merlin wondered for a brief moment if the other man was psychic. "It's not like we actually have to buy a place, we're just going through the motions so we can describe the process in the report. I told the estate agent that we only had time to view three properties today and that we'd schedule another time at a later date." Merlin took this to mean that Arthur would politely inform the company that they had decided not to buy in the area after all. Arthur would be good at it; Merlin would have them hunting him with sticks.

"Fine." He agreed, "When do we leave?"

"Now." Arthur informed him, ignoring Merlin's roll of the eyes. "Let's go."

* * *

The estate agent met them with frozen smiles and strained greetings. Merlin felt sorry for her. Word had probably gotten out that students at the Academy had to complete this farce, and the woman was most likely aware this was a waste of her time.

Within seconds however, the woman was a puddle of goo in Arthur Pendragon's hand. Merlin suppressed the urge to laugh, along with a nagging twinge of jealousy, as he watched Arthur flirt as though his life depended on it, succeeding in charming the pants off of the woman who seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that she had to be _at least_ fifteen years Arthur's senior – and married if the ring on her finger was any indication.

Arthur threw a smirk over his shoulder at Merlin, ignoring the other boy's despairing shake of the head, and followed the estate agent up the stairs to the flat.

Merlin had to admit it was a nice flat, and made a mental note to try and fall in love with someone who earned close to Arthur's 'salary'. The door opened onto a spacious foyer, with wood floors and pale, gleaming walls. They trailed behind the Agent as she led them from room to room, extolling the various virtues of a certain layout or a specific architectural feature. Merlin could not care less, but it was highly amusing to watch Arthur effectively _woo_ this woman – even if Merlin did secretly wish he was the object of Arthur's attentions.

They reached the master bedroom, and Arthur slung a companionable arm around Merlin's shoulders.

"I'm thinking red and gold for the colour scheme." He said sincerely, gesturing with a grand wave at the room currently painted a shade Merlin had come to think of as 'panic room white'. His suggestion was met with a stunned silence and an incredulous look from Merlin.

"What?" Arthur asked, a little offended that an idea he believed to have been perfectly reasonable, was being met with such disdain.

"Red and gold?" Merlin inquired, brow furrowing as he inspected the room. "Isn't that a rather aggressive combination for a place where you spend most of your time sleeping?"

Arthur snorted and gifted Merlin with a leer. "Sleep, Merlin, is not the top priority in any bedroom of mine." Merlin blushed scarlet, and he heard the estate agent giggle girlishly behind him.

"You wouldn't want more earthy tones?" Merlin inquired half-heartedly, "No blues, or greens or browns?"

"No."

Merlin sighed.

"I can tell the two of you are going to be very happy together." The Agent said kindly, and both Merlin and Arthur spun around to stare at her. "So many people are so afraid of prejudice that they're reluctant to be so open about their relationship – it must be a great strain. It's nice to see two young people happy with their choices in life."

Merlin and Arthur exchanged wary glances, before smiling gingerly at the woman before them. As the Agent continued to real off statistics about the flat and the conditions of the floors, Merlin came to the rather startling conclusion that she thought he and Arthur were a couple, and not a pair of students looking to complete a project. The revelation was both worrying and oddly satisfying.

He returned his attention to the conversation at hand, in time to hear Arthur ask a question as to the council tax bracket of the property.

* * *

"Weird." Arthur muttered as he put the key into the ignition and back the car out of the final property on their list for the day.

"Who?" Merlin asked, "That lady? I thought she was rather nice."

"She thought we were getting _married_." Arthur stated, voice cracking slightly on the last word. Schooling his face into one of mild hurt and annoyance, Merlin turned to face Arthur.

"So what you're saying is that the thought of being married to me, of having to spend time in my company, is absolutely repulsive to you, is it?"

Arthur did not buy it for a second, and simply snorted at him. "You may be as gay as the day is long, Emrys, but I'm not."

Merlin's retort died on his lips as he processed what Arthur had said. "But I – you – how?" He managed eventually, staring at Arthur incredulously.

The other man simply gave him a look, and Merlin wondered if it was really that obvious.

"Relax, Emyrs." Arthur said soothingly, and Merlin speculated as to what it would take to get Arthur to use his given name, "I didn't figure it out until I started living with you. Everyone else thinks you're banging Gwen as it is."

Arthur was at once forced to deal with a rather angry Merlin berating him for speaking of his friend in such a crude manner.

* * *

"So, what's your father like?" Merlin asked casually at dinner that night, unaware that by asking the question he was sobering the mood of the evening.

"He's a hard man to please." Arthur said eventually. "He has many expectations for me."

"Do those expectations match your own?" Merlin queried, eyeing his companion intently.

"Some of the time." Arthur replied diplomatically. Merlin took the hint and let the subject drop.

"My mum's lovely." He offered after a moment's silence. "A little protective, but lovely." Arthur chuckled. "I take it from your lack of mention that you don't have any brother's or sisters?"

Arthur nodded in confirmation. "You?"

"Nah. Just me and mum. Will lived next door though so it was fine, always someone to play or argue with as a kid."

"Substitute brother then?" Arthur remarked offhandedly and Merlin choked.

"Not quite." He admitted, cheeks flaming as he thought of some of the distinctly un-brotherly activities he and Will had pursued in their later years. Glancing up, he saw something flash behind Arthur's eyes but it was gone before he could name it, as the blonde gave a dirty chuckle.

"You dirty sod." Arthur informed him laughing, and Merlin decided this was probably not the best time to inform his new found friend that actually, he bottomed. Instead, Merlin settled for kicking Arthur's shin beneath the table. (break)

"You seem happy." Gwen commented, when she met him outside the school gates the following day. They had both just finished their morning classes and were now hurrying down to the station so as to make it to their work placements on time.

"More so than usual?" Merlin joked, lengthening his stride to keep pace with Gwen, who was nearly trotting down the path.

"Yes, I mean no – not that you're not happy normally, I'm not saying that you're depressed or anything, it's just –" Gwen broke off, a blush staining her cheeks and took a moment to compose herself, "you seem happy." She concluded eventually and Merlin offered her a grin in return.

"Yeah," he agreed as they flashed their season tickets at the conductor and boarded the train, "turns out Arthur's not as much of a prat as I thought he was."

Gwen giggled and slumped down into a seat by the window. "Maybe he's simply not so much of a prat around you?" She suggested. Merlin was not entirely sure what she meant.

* * *

_The thin light of early morning slid through the curtains, despite the fact that Merlin's internal clock informed him that dawn was still a way off. Opening his eyes, Merlin blinked rapidly, consciousness descending at a rate of knots, as he felt a bare, muscled arm sneak across his stomach and wrap around his waist. Long, lean legs entwined with his own, and Merlin gasped as he felt warm, supple, and hard flesh mould itself against his body._

"_Merlin." A voice purred in his ear, and Merlin felt himself harden immediately. Turning his head he gazed into eyes as warm and safe as summer skies. _

"_Arthur." He whispered, hardly daring to believe that the object of his affections was here, in his bed, like this. Lips as soft and perfectly formed as any girl's were tantalisingly close. Merlin reached out a hand, intent of dragging that glorious face closer to his own…_

…and felt his hand close on empty air. Eyes snapping open, Merlin saw he was alone in his bed, it was dark, and he was impossibly hard. With a groan, Merlin slid a hand beneath the covers, whilst simultaneously biting down on his fist to muffle his moans. It took barely a moment, merely the thought of Arthur sleeping in the bed only a few feet away, and Merlin was groaning his release, hot waves of ecstasy pulsing through his system. (break)

Arthur lay very, very still, barely daring to breath. He had woken only minutes before to the sound of someone calling his name and had quickly realised that the voice was coming from the bed next to his. He had rolled over, ready to berate Merlin for having woken him, when he realised that the other boy was still asleep. It was then that the manner in which Emrys had said his name registered. He had not spoken Arthur's name, he had _moaned_ it. A movement, an arm reaching in the darkness, and Arthur heard Merlin shake himself awake. He breathed a sigh of relief, only to freeze when he heard the slide of skin against fabric and in the dim pre-dawn light, saw the other boy bite down hard on his fist.

Arthur dared not move as he listened to the soft rustling that attested the activity currently conducted beneath the sheets. Of his own volition he felt things swell and tighten low in his body, whilst something in his chest roared at having been the one to bring Merlin to this. He heard his name groaned once again, even around the muffling fist, and instantly found his own release.

Arthur listened as Merlin once again fell asleep, leaving the object of his fantasies conflicted and confused in the dark before the dawn.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 4_

The final Friday of the month rolled around and Merlin welcomed it with arms wide open. Working at a hospital was manic, even if one was not a doctor. The bio-medics were confined to the basement levels of the hospital and the lack of natural light made for a tiring and slightly depressing work environment. The worrying thing was that Merlin actually really enjoyed working there. Though the tasks he was given were mind-numbingly dull, hearing the other researchers discuss their latest projects, and those being undertaken in different hospitals was fascinating.

By Friday however, Merlin was willing to give up all pretence of being a functioning human being and sleep the weekend away. Gwen however had other plans.

"There's a house party down in the village." She informed him, and the lilt to her voice told Merlin, that despite the casual nature of the words, this was in fact a direct order to attend. Raising his head from where he was sprawled sideways across his bed, the would-be bio-medic gazed blearily in Gwen's general direction. The dark-skinned curl was lying on Arthur's bed, idly tugging at a curl, and not caring a jot that the currently absent blonde would not care for her occupying his bed.

"Do I have to?" he asked, fully aware of the answer already. Gwen did not even bother replying, simply gave him a look and levered herself up so that she could find him something decent to wear.

"I've never been to a house party before." He confessed sleepily, dropping his head back down onto the feather duvet. He thought he could quite happily marry this duvet – once he'd divorced Arthur of course. Gwen's chuckle signalled her current location somewhere near the chest of draws, on the opposite side of the room.

"You won't find any of my clothes in there." Merlin informed her eventually, finally having mustered the energy to string a sentence together. "My clothes are still in my bag." He heard Gwen open the rest of the draws and then the wardrobe, before coming to sit on the edge of his bed.

"You mean Arthur hasn't let you use any of the storage space?" She sounded mildly outraged. Merlin shrugged. He might have tried to bully Arthur into giving up some of the space, but just as he thought they were forming some sort of friendship, the other boy had reverted to the arrogant, sneering prat Merlin had first met and any attempt at building a civil relationship had vanished. The reports for the project had been written separately and any points of clarification had been discussed via e-mail rather than face to face. They had reverted from being two boys on the brink of friendship, to being two strangers who were forced to occupy the same space. Merlin found it thoroughly depressing.

Determined not to think about Arthur Pendragon, Merlin closed his eyes and inched closer towards the enveloping blankets of sleep. Said blankets were rudely snatched away from him, when Gwen's slapped him on the arm lightly.

"Wake up." She demanded, not unkindly. "Tell me what you think of these."

Dutifully, Merlin opened his eyes to inspect the items of clothing, idly contemplating whether he could simply sleep at this party.

* * *

Morgana met them as the school gates, and Merlin – despite his own sexuality – had to admit that she was stunning. Even when dressed casually, Morgana exuded an aura of elegance and beauty that Merlin was sure none of the girls back home had ever possessed. Maybe it was something bred into the fabulously rich.

The raven haired girl greeted Gwen with a hug and smile, and Merlin was forced to wonder if he had been wrong in writing Morgana off as a spoilt brat in the same vein as Arthur when he first met her. In truth, Merlin had never bothered to even speak to the woman, as he had simply assumed that someone who spent so much time with a Pendragon was bound to share most of his tendencies. Now, as they walked, all three arm in arm, down towards the village, Merlin had the decency to admit that he had been wrong. Morgana did not seem to care that either he or Gwen attended the school on full scholarship, and seemed much more concerned in sharing stories of Arthur's childhood. Apparently the two had grown up together.

As a result, the walk passed in no time at all, and all too soon for Merlin's liking, they were stood outside a respectable looking house, from which incredibly disreputable music was blaring.

Merlin winced as he held the door open for the two girls, and was assaulted with a wave of sound. Morgana and Gwen slid past him, each shoving a fiver into the jar labelled 'alcohol fund – a worthy cause', before ducking further into the house. Merlin followed suit, letting the door swing shut and ignoring the disgruntled cries from the people about to enter. Squeezing his way past the people crowded in the hall, Merlin made his way towards the kitchen, figuring that this was where the girls had most likely headed.

Stumbling into the open space, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief that he was no longer being crushed by the press of bodies. Unfortunately, neither Gwen nor Morgana were present. Shrugging, Merlin grabbed a cup from the table pushed up against one wall and grabbed a bottle of coke, ignoring the near-empty bottles of vodka beside it.

Filling the cup to the brim, Merlin took a gulp and set back out into the crowds, hoping to find the girls.

Three cups and countless circuits of the room later, Merlin had still failed to locate either Morgana or Gwen and the room was beginning to spin. By chance, he stumbled out into the garden and busied himself with taking lungfuls of the crisp night air.

"Are you alright?" A rich, warm voice behind him asked. Merlin spun, or tried to, and only the stranger's arm on his elbow kept him upright.

"Here." The stranger said, and dragged him over to sit on the garden wall. He was a very attractive stranger, Merlin noted with interest; olive skin, dark hair, and deep brown eyes. He grinned inanely at his new found companion and the stranger smiled back, if somewhat bemusedly.

"How much have you had to drink?" Tall, dark and handsome questioned and Merlin shook his head in denial.

"Nothing, just coke." He said, his words slurring slightly as he spoke.

"Not that bottle from the kitchen?" The man asked, horrified, and Merlin lifted his heaving feeling head to stare.

"Yeah?" He said, slumping forward slightly before the stranger dove to catch him and haul him upright.

" You do know someone emptied nearly two bottles of vodka into that thing?" Handsome told him, "There's barely any coke in it."

Merlin nodded dumbly, and then decided that perhaps that had been a bad idea as the world suddenly decided to play twister. He suddenly realised that he had not introduced himself, and faced the horrible realisation that his mother would never forgive him for having been so rude.

"I'm Merlin." He said, thrusting a hand in the general direction of the stranger's elbow.

A chuckle greeted this information, before his hand was clasped in warm, tanned skin. "Lancelot." Came the response, and Merlin grinned. "Call me Lance."

"Who did you come with?" Lance inquired, slinging an arm around Merlin's shoulders as it became clear that the other boy could no longer keep himself upright; Merlin took it upon himself to snuggle into Lance's side.

"Girls." He answered promptly, "Two of them." He felt Lancelot's laughter bubble up through his chest, and vibrate against his ear.

"Lucky you." Lance replied, and Merlin could tell from his voice that he was grinning. Merlin smiled, before a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he was supposed to be finding said girls. With an effort of will, he pushed himself to his feet, dragging the other man with him, and attempted to make his way back towards the house.

His sense of direction appeared to be off however, as, rather than heading towards the blurry lights of the house, Merlin found himself leading Lance deeper into the shadows at the bottom of the garden.

"The house is back that way." Lancelot informed him, when Merlin stopped to try and figure out just where on Earth they were. The laughter was still clear in his voice, and Merlin founded himself grinning wider than ever.

With a drunken chuckle, he executed an about face with remarkable accuracy and began to march towards the house. Unfortunately, Lance was in the way, and the force with which Merlin hit sent them both careening to the ground. They landed with a soft thump and a groan from Lance as Merlin landed on top of him. The ground was damp and cold, and Merlin could feel water soaking through the knees of his jeans, but Lancelot's face was close, his breath warm against Merlin's cheek, and the blue-eyed boy did not feel much inclination to move.

Raising a hand, he ran it carefully down Lance's cheek, revelling in the way the man's breath hitched as he did so. He rocked his hips experimentally and felt Lancelot groan, and harden beneath him. He had barely a moment to enjoy his victory, before Lancelot's hand was snaking around the back of his head and their lips were crashing together, hot and wet and with a lack of finesse only the truly drunk can manage.

"Emrys? What the fuck are you doing?" Merlin jumps, rolling off Lancelot and staring up at a figure he knows far too well.

"Arthur?" He slurs, gingerly pushing himself to his feet and reaching down a hand to help Lance up. The other man takes it, keeping a wary eye on Arthur. Through the haze of alcohol, Merlin can understand why. Arthur is silhouetted against the light from the house looking every inch the warrior king of days gone by. His hair is haloed in light and his eyes blaze; he would not look out of place with a sword in his hand. Lance has moved forward until he's placed himself between Merlin and Arthur.

"Whatever we were doing is none of your business." Lancelot informed Arthur firmly, drawing the other man's attention away from Merlin and settling it squarely upon himself.

"He's drunk." Arthur hissed in the darkness, "You're taking advantage." Merlin tried to find the words to say that a) he was not a girl and could defend his own honour, thank you very much and b) Lancelot had been doing no such thing.

"Arthur." Was all he managed. He tried to convey that it was alright, that he was touched Arthur was worried about him, but it was alright – honestly. Arthur turned to him, gaze dropping to where Merlin had wrapped Lancelot's hand in his own, and for a moment Merlin could have sworn he saw jealousy flare in those blue, blue eyes, before Arthur's customary sneer was once again affixed on his face and he was regarding Merlin with the same distain he treated something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"Find your own way home." He commanded and swept off, snagging the waist of a girl Merlin had not noticed until now, as he left. Watching Arthur leave, Merlin had the distinct impression that he had just screwed up royally; he awkwardly disentangled his fingers from Lancelot's.

* * *

When he awoke the next morning, it was to an empty suite and a stomach that was threatening to climb up his throat. With an effort of will, he calmed the roiling mass in his gut to the point he was able to walk and stumbled into the bathroom. If he had been forced to hazard a guess he would have said he was still drunk. With a groan, he fumbled with the shower until he had managed to secure hot water and promptly shed his clothing. He didn't remember how he had gotten home last night, or how he had made it to the bed. He thought he remembered a pair of concerned blue eyes, peering over him as he lay on the bed, and someone rolling him onto his side. It was probably Morgana. She and Gwen must have found him at some point.

Standing beneath the pounding spray, Merlin felt the hot water wash the sins of the previous night away. Memory returned in snatches – blurry and incomplete. There had been a man, very attractive, give it time and Merlin was sure he would remember a name.

When the water began to cool, and he was as sober as he was likely to get, Merlin decided to call it quits. He stayed beneath the spray for a moment more, missing the sound of the main door opening, before turning off the tap and getting out. He reached blindly for a towel, dropping it over his head and rubbing gingerly – his head hurt too much for any form of vigorous pressure. His dulled reflexes vaguely recognised the sound of the bathroom door opening, and he had a second in which to remember he hadn't locked it, before a voice that was becoming all too familiar cried, "_Shit_."

Whipping the towel off of his head, Merlin was confronted with the sight of Arthur Pendragon, whose gaze was fixed firmly somewhere below Merlin's navel. Horrified, Merlin dropped the towel to his waist, forcing Arthur's eyes to snap up and meet his own. Blue met blue and Merlin was sure that the temperature of the room climbed several notches in the space of a second. He could feel his cheeks burning as blood thrummed through his veins; he could not bring himself to look away from Arthur's gaze.

And then Arthur was moving, so quickly that Merlin barely had time to comprehend it. One moment he was watching Arthur standing in the doorway and the next Arthur's body was moulded against his own, pressing them both against the cool glass of the shower door. Merlin had a moment in which to think _'Oh'_ and then Arthur's lips were moving against his own, and all coherent thought fled.

Unthinking, Merlin arched upwards, not caring that he was soaking Arthur's expensive designer shirt, that his hands were leaving wet prints upon his jeans. All he cared about was feeling more of Arthur. He was fumbling with the Italian leather belt around Arthur's waist, when the other boy pushed away from him sharply. His eyes were wild and staring, and he stumbled back from Merlin as though he were a leper. His face was now a mask of disgust, brow furrowed and lips curling as though he were about to be sick.

Merlin opened his mouth, to say what he was not sure, when Arthur turned and bolted from the bathroom. The door slammed behind him on the way out and moments later the main door echoed after it.

A stunned Merlin caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink - hair mussed, pupils dilated, lips swollen and red - and vomited into the sink.

* * *

Arthur pushed his foot hard to the accelerator pedal, and watched with perverse pleasure as the needle climbed higher and higher up the speedometer. He drove mindlessly for what felt like hours, pulling into the first pub he saw, the moment the clock indicated that it was a respectable - if early – time to start drinking. He marched up to the bar and ordered a double scotch. The barman raised an eyebrow, asked for I.D., but did not say anything else. Scouring the room, Arthur's eyes alighted on a bottle-blonde in heals sitting at the other end of the bar. Arthur only had one thought: She'll do.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 5_

Merlin spent all of Sunday sequestered in the library, avoiding the gaze of everyone he met. His customary weekend visit to Gaius had been stilted and awkward, until Gaius had given up all hopes of conversation and sent him away with a reminder not to drink so heavily at the weekends.

Merlin's hand itched to pick up the phone and call Will, or his mother – just to hear a friendly voice. But what would he say? He could never even begin to broach this subject with his mother and with Will – he wasn't sure how the other boy would take to hearing about his two almost-trysts. Officially, he and Will were 'just friends' but they had always trod that line between friends and something more, and Merlin could not say for definite if it was not firmly 'something more' on Will's part.

Gwen found him as the sun began to set, still curled up in one of the library window-seats, physics questions spread across his lap and gaze firmly fixed on the distant horizon. Merlin caught a glimpse of her face in the reflection and when he turned his head he saw she had a weight of knowledge in her gaze which said she could guess what had reduced him to this state.

Merlin knew that none of the particulars of Saturday's encounter would have reached her, but she was bound to have heard about Friday night and it was common knowledge that Arthur had not been seen at the Academy since yesterday.

Gwen laid one of her hands over his own, and Merlin felt a tear slip down his cheek.

* * *

Arthur pushed his key into the lock of the annex with a sense of resignation. He knew he stank of sweat and sex and he lodged a fervent prayer that Merlin was not inside. He and the blonde had not left her room from the moment they had stumbled through the door on Saturday night to the moment he had left on Sunday afternoon. Arthur felt sticky, hollow and guilty. His first thought, when he had realised that he was kissing _Merlin_ had been about his Father – what would he think – and he'd run. But as he had extricated himself from the blonde woman's embrace, his only thought had been that he wanted Merlin; consequences be damned. With a sigh, he pushed the door open, toeing off his shoes just inside the entry way, and walking cautiously towards the bedroom.

He felt as though he owed Merlin an apology, an explanation, but what to say? It was a kiss – only a kiss. But Arthur knew the words were a lie even as he thought them. That one action had been more significant than anything else that might have happened between them.

Two boys, on the verge of being men, who had failed to ever hold a proper conversation without resulting to half-meant insults and barbs – that's all they were. But again this was a lie. There was bond between them, an indescribable, in-explicable, heart-wrenching bond. That single kiss had affected Arthur more than the sight of a fully nude and willing woman ever had and damned if Arthur even knew what that signified.

He was not sure he even _liked_ Merlin Emrys – but apparently he was deeply attracted to him. Attracted and without a single fucking clue as to what to say.

Merlin was not in the bedroom, and Arthur was not sure whether to be disappointed or glad. He made his way to the bathroom, pointedly locking the door, before stepping into the shower. The water was not as kind as it had been to Merlin, and failed to wash away the sins of the past.

* * *

When he came out of the bathroom, Merlin was sat on top of his bed, staring steadily at the wall. His face looked pale and drawn but he looked determined.

"Who was she?" He asked and his voice seemed overly loud in the stillness of the room.

For a moment Arthur contemplated playing dumb, but it would be an insult and Merlin had already guessed his character better than that. "I never asked her name." He admitted and the words made him ashamed. The woman had deserved better than that; he had not meant to make her pay for his crimes.

Merlin nodded, but the movement was jerky and seemed more of a reflex than an acknowledgement.

Slowly, cautiously, Arthur made his way towards Merlin's bed. Part of him wondered if he should get dressed, but he did not want to delay this any further. He knelt beside the bed, and wondered if Merlin knew how rare it was for him to kneel for anyone. He placed a chased kiss to Merlin's arm, letting his lips rest there for a moment before he felt the breath leave Merlin's body in a shuddering sigh.

He moved his lips higher, tracing the line of Merlin's arm, and he moved with it, until he was poised over Merlin's prone figure waiting for a permission he was not sure would come. Their eyes met, and Arthur saw his own knowledge reflected in Merlin's gaze: this was unlikely to end well, they did not know enough about each other – they weren't even friends – but they couldn't help themselves. Merlin had not forgiven him – not yet – but like Arthur, he could not resist.

As Arthur felt the towel slip from his hips and slither to the floor, he prayed that they were strong enough to move past this. That he was able to salvage some sort of friendship with the raven-haired boy.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 6_

Merlin sank into the stillness of his own room with a sense of relief. It had been three days since the completion of the social studies project, three days since Merlin had left Arthur, naked and sleeping, in the annex that had been assigned to them. Three days since Merlin had spoken to Arthur at all.

Throwing the lock into place, Merlin took a moment to relish the privacy of space entirely his own. It felt as though every eye of the school was watching him, though each time he had raised his head not a single person had acknowledged his presence. Gwen watched him with a mixture of trepidation and sympathy in her eyes, whilst Morgana bit her lip and stayed by Arthur's side. Merlin had not missed they way she watched Gwen from the corner of her eye.

It had been this, more than anything, which made him resolve to speak to Arthur in the morning. It was obvious that Gwen and Morgana felt as though they had to choose; it was not fair to involve them in this quarrel.

Sighing, Merlin stripped out his shirt, and dropped himself, still half-clothed upon the bed. He knew he had work to do – at least three assignments were due tomorrow – but Merlin had perfected the art of procrastination years ago.

A knock on the door, roused him from his meditative state. Still in a state of undress, Merlin trudged over to his door and yanked it open, muttering a greeting which died on his lips as he saw the person standing on the other side.

"Hi." Arthur said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "Can I come in?"

Shocked into silence, Merlin nodded mutely and stood aside, ushering the other boy into his room with a wave of his hand. Closing the door, Merlin winced as he heard Arthur pick his way through the items strewn across the floor. His wardrobe never was used to its full potential.

"Did you need something?" Merlin asked, bending down to snatch up the shirt he had dropped by the bed earlier. Hastily shoving his arms into the sleeves, Merlin threaded the buttons with fingers that trembled.

He resolutely refused to look at Arthur, choosing instead to listen as the other boy perched gingerly against the window ledge.

"Why did you leave?" Arthur asked quietly, causing Merlin's head reflexively before he caught himself. "That night, why?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Merlin replied, scuffing a foot along the floor uncomfortably.

"I see." The pain in Arthur's voice overrode all of Merlin's earlier intentions as guilt clashed violently with anger inside his heart and mind. What right did Arthur have to be in pain? Glaring at the other boy, Merlin tried to convey everything he was feeling without saying anything.

Arthur seemed to receive the message as he had the grace to look ashamed. "What do we do?" he asked quietly, eyes never leaving Merlin's gaze. Merlin shrugged and shook his head, slumping against the closed door. He knew what he wanted. He also knew it was a monumentally bad idea.

"I was jealous," Arthur said suddenly, when it became clear Merlin was unwilling to break the silence, "when I saw you with that guy at the party. I wanted it to be me." Arthur's voice broke on the last word, and Merlin knew how much it must have cost the young man to admit such a thing.

"And in the bathroom?" Merlin asked, reluctant to relive the moment, but desperate for some form of answer.

Arthur looked mildly panicked. "My father – if he – I want this." The words were hoarse, disjointed and confused; Merlin understood what Arthur was trying to say.

"We can't go back to being friends." Merlin told him. "Not when we never were."

"We were friends – almost." Arthur corrected. There was an awkward pause where neither knew what they ought to say.

"We'll try…this." Merlin said eventually, waving a hand to encompass Arthur and himself. "It'll most likely go all to hell, but we'll give it a try."

Arthur's answering smile made the decision worth while. In three strides he was across the room, and cradling Merlin's face between his hands. Merlin could feel the hesitation in the movement, could see the vulnerability in Arthur's eyes; he realised in that moment that Arthur really did want this – wanted him, wanted this to work.

Pushing up slightly, he pressed his lips lightly against Arthur's, one hand moving around to curl in Arthur's hair. He felt heat shoot into his finger tips, nerves tingling with anticipation and desire. One of Arthur's hand snaked its way beneath his shirt, fingers splayed in fiery lines against his skin, and Merlin moaned.

Arthur chuckled, a self-pleased, possessive sound, before his voice caught in his throat as Merlin traced his nails lightly against his skin. Merlin smiled against Arthur's neck, nipping lightly and then soothing away the sting with a flick of the tongue.

He was debating whether to move his hands any lower on Arthur's body, when the broad-shouldered young man pushed himself away. Merlin instantly froze, face falling into a neutral mask, whilst every muscle in his body screamed for him to run; run before he could see the look of disgust of Arthur's face again.

The blonde must have guessed what he was thinking, because a warm, calloused hand wrapped around his chin and tilted his head up so that Merlin was forced to meet Arthur's gaze. He saw no disgust there, only lust tinged with the last vestiges of self-restraint.

Merlin sighed, breath misting gently over Arthur's wrist, and waited. Carefully, Arthur release Merlin's chin, threading his hand down pale skin until his fingers wrapped sensually around Merlin's wrist. The dark-haired boy took a moment to wonder at how tactile Arthur was when he wished to be.

"Things didn't go so well the last time." Arthur murmured softly and Merlin nearly snorted at the understatement, "Maybe we should go slowly this time?"

The regret in Arthur's voice forced Merlin to take the words as they were meant, and not as some form of cowardly dismissal. Nodding, he tilted his head to press a chaste kiss to Arthur's lips, before slipping out from beneath the other boy's embrace.

Instantly, he felt the chill of the air bite into his skin, no longer sheltered by Arthur's muscular frame. There was a dopey grin plastered across Arthur's face, and Merlin was sure it was mirrored in his own. Merlin had a fleeting thought that they would look back on this moment and berate themselves for acting like _girls._

With one final fleeting kiss, Arthur let himself out of Merlin's room, leaving the dark haired young man to flop down onto his bed and grin inanely at the ceiling.

* * *

It took all of a week before Merlin and Arthur's resolve to take things slowly crumbled under the wait of want and need and lust. Merlin knew that for him at least, it was more than that. Somewhere along the way – despite, or maybe because of, everything that had happened – he had fallen in love with Arthur Pendragon.

His nights are spent in Arthur's bed, wrapped in the other man's arms; the scent of Arthur's skin has begun to smell worryingly like home.

It had been two weeks since the project was completed and handed in for assessment when he and Arthur are called to the Head Master's office. The man fixed them with a pointed stare and indicated for them to sit in the two chairs opposite his desk. Neither boy dared to look at the other for fear of seeing their own fears reflected.

Did someone know? Had someone seen? How were they going to explain away Merlin sleeping in Arthur's rooms night after night?

The door behind them opened, and both Merlin and Arthur turned their heads to see Hurt striding into the room. Fear warred with confusion in their minds, and Merlin spared Arthur a fleeting glance. A slight shake of the blonde's head told his lover that he had no idea as to why Hurt would be present at a disciplinary meeting, either.

Hurt leant himself against the Head Master's desk, and joined in pinning the two young men with a piercing gaze. Merlin lost the battle not to fidget uncomfortably at the attention. The two lovers remained perfectly silent, each unwilling to broach the topic for fear of the repercussions.

Eventually, once the Head Master had apparently grown board of watching them squirm he began speaking.

"I understand that the two of you recently completed an assignment for Mr. Hurt, wherein you simulated a civil partnership for the duration of three weeks. The results of which were recorded in two separate reports you each submitted at the end of that time."

Technically the statement was not a question but both Arthur and Merlin felt obliged to answer, "Yes, Sir."

The Head Master nodded, thoughtfully, and gestured for Hurt to continue the conversation.

"The project is the reason we have called you here." Hurt informed them, "Not only did your respective employers give you glowing reviews, but your reports showed a level of dedication to the assignment unmatched by any other student. It is clear that you both possess a level of maturity and dedication not often found in people your age. Your reports read as though you really were discussing a domestic arrangement, rather than a mere project. You appear to have worked as two parts of a single whole; you, more so than any other pair in your year, have grasped the true nature of this assignment. You are to be congratulated."

Merlin and Arthur were both unsure what to say to this as, at the time of writing, their relationship had been anything but symbiotic. Eventually they settled for a simple, "Thank you, Sir."

"You will both be receiving mark of distinction for the project, and letters will be sent informing your parents of this." The Head Master told them, with an air of polite condescension. "Also, with your permission, your reports will feature in a paper Mr Hurt is writing for the Royal Psychology Institute. Your names and details will, of course, be erased, and your confidentiality ensured." The two boys could only nod dumbly in acquiescence as the Head Master continued to extol the virtues of Hurt's research.

After a few more, agonising moments, the pair were dismissed from the office. They walked, as quickly as was polite, to the door and left without so much as a backward glance. Once the room was safely behind them, both Merlin and Arthur sagged in quiet relief. No one had demanded they end their relationship, or punished them for pursuing that which some in the school would undoubtedly deem unnatural.

It was not until they were well clear of the Head Master's study, that Merlin dared voice these thoughts, and when he did he was met with an arrogant toss of Arthur's head and the information that the blonde young man had never once believed them to be in any form of trouble. Merlin responded by cuffing Arthur across the back of the head.

* * *

Merlin was lying beneath his favourite oak tree, headless of the chill wind that blew across the ground, chemistry text book propped open before him, when a shadow fell across the page.

Looking up, Merlin squinted at the figure silhouetted against the weak afternoon sunlight. Male, Merlin could tell, but it was not until he eyes adjusted to the shadows that he recognised who it was.

"Will." Merlin cried, leaping to his feet and embracing his friend warmly. The other boy laughed and returned the greeting, slapping Merlin on the back jovially, before sinking to the ground beside him. Merlin hastily threw the text book to one side, where it lay forgotten, and he basked in the joy of seeing his friend again.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked, grinning at the boy who had been his best friend since before he could walk.

"I came to visit you." Will said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world, which upon reflection Merlin realised it was.

"Well it's great to see you." Merlin assured him, still unable to stop himself from grinning. Seeing Will reminded him of simpler times: times when he was not constantly trying to keep his footing with Arthur; constantly worried that any argument they had was going to tip them over the edge into enmity.

Will laughed at Merlin's simplicity and nudged an elbow into the other boy's ribs. Merlin laughed and ducked away, prompting Will to lunge after him in mock-pursuit. They ended up wrestling for control of the situation, in the shade of the old oak tree, until, panting, they pulled apart and lay side by side in the grass.

"So," Will said, once they had both regained enough breath to speak, "what do you do for fun around here?" His tone clearly implied that he expected the answer to involve either copious amounts of studying or debauched activities in the library stacks – possibly both.

Merlin slapped a hand across Will's stomach, causing his friend to groan as the air was pushed in a rush from his body.

"There's a party tonight, if you're interested." He sincerely hoped that Will was interest, as Arthur had turned up at his room that morning and practically demanded he attend. When Merlin had asked what was in it for him, Arthur had offered to wear his tightest pair of jeans. Compared to some of Merlin's jeans, the pair Arthur referred to were ridiculously modest. But they hung low on his hips, and did wonderful things to his arse. Merlin had readily agreed.

To his joy, Will said he would quite happily go to a party as it beat lazing around in Merlin's room the entire evening.

"You'll get a chance to meet Arthur." Merlin said happily, before belatedly remembering that as far as Will was concerned Merlin hated Arthur.

"Why would I want to do that?" his friend asked lazily, plucking grass stalks from the earth.

"Well, we're sort of – that is we – " Merlin stuttered, watching as soft horror dawned across Will's features.

"Fuck off."

Merlin winced. "Will I –"

"Forget it Merlin." Will said, voice harsh. "It's your life."

"You'll like him," Merlin tried to assure his friend. "I'm sure you will. I bet you get on really well."

Will snorted and said nothing.

* * *

Arthur and Will did not get on. From the moment they met the two boys were at each others throats. Merlin watched, devastated, from the sidelines as Gwen and Morgana tried to defuse the situation. Their efforts were fruitless.

"Arthur, please." Merlin said eventually, appealing to his lover as Arthur was the more likely to behave maturely out of the two. "Just drop it?"

Unfortunately, Arthur did not take these words to mean that Merlin had more faith in Arthur than he did in Will. Instead his eyes flashed and his nostrils flared in indignation.

"Fine." Arthur spat at him, ignoring the hurt that dashed through his lover's eyes. "Let's just go then shall we? We're already late as it is."

Merlin nodded, thankful that Arthur seemed willing to attempt at least a modicum of civility. By the time they arrives at the house where the party was being held, Arthur and Will were silently sworn enemies and Merlin was longing for the night to be over.

Once inside, Merlin made a bee-line for the alcohol and rummaged around for the strongest drink he could find. Gwen was at his elbow in an instant.

"Merlin, are you sure that's a good idea?" She asked worriedly as Merlin grabbed three bottles, a pint glass and a juice carton and proceeded to concoct what promised to be a very lethal beverage. "You haven't eaten a single thing all day."

Merlin dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand and downed a good proportion of his drink. "My best friend and my boyfriend hate each other Gwen – and they've only just met. I'm pretty sure this is the only way I'm going to survive the night at this rate."

"If you're sure?" Gwen said dubiously, watching as Merlin once again mixed himself a drink that contained more alcohol than any single glass should ever feasibly contain. Merlin's only answer was to down the drink in one.

* * *

The evening deteriorated rapidly from that moment on. Merlin had succeeded in locating Will fairly quickly, but his attempts to attract Arthur's attention were far less successful. Every time Merlin had approached Arthur, Will in tow, his boyfriend had remained still for only a few minutes before disappearing again under the pretence of talking to someone on the other side of the room.

Merlin sighed. What he really wanted to do was leave Will in Gwen's care, grab Arthur, and proceed to drag him to one of the bedrooms upstairs, but he could not very well abandon his oldest friend in a house-full of people he did not know, despite the fact that Merlin did not know that many of them either.

He was brought from his revelry when Will pressed a drink into his hand.

"Here." He said. "Try this."

"What is it?" Merlin asked, eyeing the glass suspiciously. The liquid inside was thick and pink and smelt vaguely of rum – though it could have been any spirit under the sun (Merlin's knowledge of alcohol was poor).

"No idea," Will told him, downing the contents of his own glass which Merlin noted was blue and not nearly as viscous.

With a shrug, Merlin did what he was told, wondering who on earth had invented a cocktail that tasted like strawberry milk. On the far side of the room he caught a glimpse of Arthur. His boyfriend looked well and truly trashed.

* * *

Half an hour later, saw Merlin cursing whoever had brewed the strawberry concoction and wishing violently that he was at home, in bed, and watching some poorly-dubbed kung-fu movie with Arthur. As he once again deposited the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, Merlin vowed never to drink anything again.

Beside him, Will was slumped against the bathroom wall, offering sympathetic facial expressions and trying not to gag at the smell. When Merlin finally finished heaving, he stood up and poured him a cup of water from the sink. Merlin accepted the cup gratefully, thankful for the chance to try and wash the taste of vomit from his mouth.

Exhausted, he let his head fall against Will's shoulder as the other boy resumed his seat on the floor.

"Shouldn't Arthur be the one you're leaning on?" Will asked quietly, and Merlin wished he wouldn't talk because the movement of his shoulder as he did so made the world spin violently.

"Leave it alone, Will." He commanded, "He'd be here if he knew I was sick."

"Is that so?" Will asked, and Merlin could hear the scepticism in his friend's voice.

"Yes it is." Merlin insisted angrily, pushing himself upright with a level of force he immediately regretted.

Will was silent for a full minute, and Merlin thought that maybe they would just leave the conversation as it was, but then,

"So you're happy then?"

"Yes." Merlin did not even hesitate.

"But he's a prat." Will said, and Merlin could not deny this fact.

"He is."

"But he's your prat."

Merlin grinned dopily. "Yeah." He heard Will sigh, before his friend slung a companionable arm around his shoulders.

"Then I'm happy for you." Will said, "But don't expect me to like him."

Merlin chuckled, "I won't." He assured the other boy. "Arthur is an acquired taste."

The sound of stumbling feet and a cry of "Hey, watch out," prompted Merlin to raise his head from where it had once again come to rest against Will's shoulder blade. His friend's arm remained where it was, and Merlin had a suspicion that Will thought he might topple over if he was not forcibly held upright.

The door was flung open to reveal a very drunk Arthur who glared at them blearily for starting back, his face a mask of anger.

"What the fuck?" He demanded, and though the words were slurred slightly, Merlin could clearly hear what was being said. He was confused for a moment, puzzled as to why Arthur was so angry, when he realised what this must look like.

Here he was, alone in a bathroom with a boy he had once had a relationship, both of them naked from the waste up due to the fact that Merlin had thrown up on them, with Will's arm lying across his shoulders.

Hastily, Merlin stood up, stumbling forward until he was closer to Arthur than he was to Will.

"Are you fucking him?" Arthur demanded, and Merlin could smell the alcohol on his breath; he did not imagine his own smelt much better.

"What? Arthur, no." Merlin said desperately, reaching out to try and placate his boyfriend. "It's not what it looks like." Had he been sober, Merlin would have taken a moment to shake his head at the speed with which their conversation began to represent a soap opera dialogue.

"The hell it is." Arthur said belligerently, "You're fucking him. Or, well, he wants to fuck you. You've fucked before." Merlin winced, and gave an idle thought over to wishing Arthur would stop using that word – he hated it.

"Arthur you're being ridiculous." Merlin he stated, and knew instantly that this was the wrong thing to say. The _anger_ on Arthur's face was unparalleled by anything Merlin had ever seen before. He could not understand why Arthur was reacting so aggressively. Yes he and Will used to sleep together, but that had been years ago, and Arthur knew that, Merlin distinctly remembered telling him. To Merlin, Arthur's jealousy was entirely unfounded. He could not see Will standing behind him, a smug smile on his lips and a possessive glint in his eye; Arthur could.

"Whatever, Emrys." Arthur snarled, and Merlin felt anger flooding his chest at the use of his last name. "It's not like I care if you've been shagging this tosser-" His words were cut off as Merlin's fist connected solidly with his jaw. The impact was not hard, Merlin had too little muscle and too much alcohol in his system to manage a truly damaging blow, but it was symbolic.

Arthur stood, gaping, as Merlin marched past him, stumbling down the stairs to the ground floor of the house. Will's smirk died on his lips as he saw the devastation clearly written on Arthur's face. The blonde caught his eye, straightening as he prepared to block Will's way. He was not about to lose Merlin, and he knew that if Will was the one to comfort the boy, that it was a distinct possibility.

Will sighed and sagged against the bath. "Go." He said, waving a hand at the door. Arthur heard everything Will had not said: he's my friend, I want him; he wants you; he may not want to talk to you for weeks , but he does want you; I'm not going to ruin this for you.

Arthur heard everything Will did not say - because it would have made him far too romantic, and female, and eloquent, if he had said it – and he was grateful for it.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Merlin and its associated material are the property of its creators and the BBC.

**Marriage is what you make it**

_Chapter 7_

When Merlin awoke the next morning, it was to the feel of warm arms wrapped around his midsection and a hard body moulded against his own. His immediate thought was, "Oh god, what have I done?" before his brain caught up to his sense and he realised that the feel of the arms did not remind him of mornings from long ago, but of times far more recent. He was sharing his bed, not with Will, but with Arthur; Merlin had never felt more relieved.

The sensation did not last long, however, as the question broke as to _why_ he was sharing a bed with Arthur? He remembered a fight. He remembered hitting Arthur, albeit not very heart, he remembered thinking the whole thing had played out like a very bad soap opera, the writer of which deserve to be shot at dawn. He did not remember going to bed with Arthur.

He squirmed, twisting around until he was face to face with his companion. Arthur's face was scrunched up in distaste, a clear sign that he was awake.

"Stop _wriggling_, Merlin." Arthur instructed, tightening his hold on the other boy in an attempt to limit his movement.

"What are you doing in my bed?" Merlin demanded, settling down nonetheless.

Arthur snorted, "I think you'll find that you're in my bed." He responded, eyes still firmly shut. "I must not have locked my door last night, when I came back you were already here. You must have been very drunk if you couldn't even tell the difference between your room and mine."

A glance over Arthur's shoulder informed Merlin that his lover was indeed telling the truth and that Merlin was the one in Arthur's bed not the other way around.

Sighing, he burrowed deeper into Arthur's warmth, nestling his face against the other boy's chest. "Arthur? About last night –" He felt Arthur wince.

"Can't we just forget about it?" The other boy asked, pulling back to look Merlin in the eye. "We were drunk, I said things I didn't mean –" He broke off and sighed.

"I love you." Merlin offered quietly, praying fervently that Arthur did not throw the words back in his face.

"I love you too." Arthur admitted, resting his forehead against Merlin's, gently. Merlin shifted forward until he was pressed against Arthur from chest to feet and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist.

"Go to sleep, Merlin." Arthur commanded, effectively ruining the tender moment between them. "We'll talk about this more when we're not so hung-over."

Merlin chuckled, and nodded his agreement, letting sleep reclaim him as Arthur began to snore softly against his cheek.


End file.
